Category: eroticliterature

That night with my naughty Columbian and my big man (MFF, bi)

A few years back my husband and I had a very good friend, let’s call her Adriana, who we had been spending a lot of time with. Adriana was stunning. Long dark hair that fell to the middle of her back, beautiful tanned skin, big brown eyes that a girl could just get lost in, a tight, fit little body and some very expensive tits that I struggled to keep my eyes off of. And her thick Columbian accent had me working very hard to keep my composure.

But Adriana was monogamous and my husband and I were not. She wanted a family someday, had a guy that she’d been casually seeing for a few months and we settled on just staying friends. I watched a very tender and intimate friendship grow between her and my man and I would often wish I could see him buried deep inside of her. This man could easily have walked off the set of Magic Mike- At 6’6, he towers over my tiny frame, with striking blue eyes, and the perfect amount of muscles to fit his frame, not too much, but enough to have women staring when we’re out in public. Read more »

Out in the Open: Consu[M]mating our A[F]fair in the Park.

We master the art of accidentally meeting. Today it is in the park around the corner from your office. It is windy and I keep one hand on my skirt–not sure yet if I want you to know how even when I was getting dressed that I thought about fucking you.

There is almost no one around us, but still you start the charade. “How strange to see you here,” you say, loudly. Then almost in a whisper, “I’m hard already.”

“I needed the fresh air,” I reply, letting go of my skirt, wanting the wind to lift it enough to show you what I’m not wearing.

We walk along the cement path, talking about nothing. Making sure to mention our spouses, our kids. It’s almost as if speaking about them proves what is happening between us has nothing to do with them.

Your hand moves to my back and moves me from the path toward an enormous willow tree with branches that touch the ground.

We slip between the branches and the trunk, hiding from the few joggers and strollers in the park. “I can’t stop thinking about your cock,” I say. Read more »